


Closer than Expected

by lillpon



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: CS Neighbors AU, Captain Swan Secret Valentine 2017, F/M, Fashion Designer Emma, Fluff, Model Killian, One F bomb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9834653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillpon/pseuds/lillpon
Summary: Emma has been admiring Killian from afar for some time, firstly because they haven't worked together yet and secondly because he's knd of terribly arrogant. But one assignment will bring the two closer - literally and figuratively.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hookedonapirate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hookedonapirate/gifts).



> A little gift for sweetest Hookedonapirate for the Captain Swan Secret Valentine on Tumblr! Beta by wingedlioness.

For someone used to not depending on small things to make her mornings, Emma sure found it hard rising from bed before hearing her neighbor downstairs sing his early tunes. He never spent a morning without welcoming the day with a song as if he was the happiest person in the world.

Of course, the only reason she even heard him was due to a few loose planks on her floor and her neighbor’s very thin ceiling. Her landlord had warned her about it, saying that they were going to fix it soon. But in her two months living there, no notice came, and honestly, she couldn’t complain. It’s not that she felt like she was creeping on him either. She couldn’t understand the lyrics, only the melody making it through her floor, and nothing else. No discussions, no other voices, just melodies of various music styles brightening her mood.

Today was different, as her neighbor - she still hadn’t learnt his name - sounded like he had a sore throat. He still sang, but coughed between phrases and his voice sounded rough. She kept listening until the sound of his door closing let her know he was gone, and she finally stood up.

Emma may have been a semi-famous fashion designer, but her style never stopped being casual. She enjoyed how it felt like it protected her from the world without making her look fake, though that wasn’t a detail she was used to sharing in her interviews.

So she put on her jeans, boots, shirt and leather jacket and took the subway to _Snow White’s Fashion House_. Cheesy name, she admitted, but the conditions were great, her pay good, and her boss extremely friendly to everyone, even Emma herself. And most of the models were nice too.

Well, most of them.

As soon as Emma entered the building, the first person she saw was Killian Jones, one of the company’s well-paid and most trusted models, as well as the only one-handed model working for a fashion house in the whole city. Killian working there seemed to have a very positive effect on the company and he looked quite proud of it.

Oh great, he caught her staring at him again. She expected another sassy remark from him, his way of flirting, but this time he only smiled suggestively at her, his one eyebrow rising before turning back to continue his conversation with Ruby, the company’s receptionist who could very well be working as a model if she only asked.

Entering her atelier, Emma was greeted by an Elsa who was grinning ear to ear. “Good morning, Elsa,” she said.

“Good morning, sunshine. Today’s your lucky day,” Elsa said and raised her eyebrows.

“What?” Emma took her jacket off slowly and eyed her co-worker cautiously. She’s only shared very few with Elsa for her to know what a lucky day for Emma Swan could be.

“Killian Jones will be coming today for a new leather costume. And I will be over at David because he asked for my help with some new dresses, which means you will be here alone taking his measurements,” she said and managed to smile even wider.

Taking his measurements. Which would mean… seeing Killian Jones wearing only his underwear, her fingers touching his bare skin, his breath on her as she worked around his body…

“Have fun,” Elsa said and walked through the door before Emma could react.

“Wait!” she shouted and ran towards her. She leaned outside and watched her go with her grin still on. “Elsa! Come back! Who will I scream at until he comes?” she almost hissed at her, which caused Elsa to laugh, her back still to Emma.

“Shit,” Emma whispered and closed her door. It’s not that she hasn’t been around attractive males in her line of work… but Killian, well, she had thought of him so many times in the past two months she’d stopped using his last name in her thoughts and got used to the idea that his looks had really swept her off her feet.

His behavior, however, being so cocky and arrogant all the time, was the last she was prepared for. Said behavior was the reason he hadn’t yet worked with Emma. Everyone talked about how hard he was to work with, and how Emma couldn’t possibly handle it. How little they knew.

On her desk lay a paper with all she needed to know for his new costume - which apparently was described as “black and extra skinny”, hence the need for new measurements. Before she even had a moment to collect herself, Killian opened her door without knocking and walked in, chin held high.

“Good morning, love,” he said. Funnily enough, his voice sounded harsh.

“I assume your voice was lost along with your manners,” she said without looking up at him. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that his stance hadn’t changed.

“Aye, screaming at a rock concert late at night will do that to you,” he said without missing a beat.

“Losing your manners or your voice?” she said, finally glaring up at him.

“Apologies,” he said and took a bow.

A _bow_. Was he serious?

She looked at him warily for a few seconds, measuring tape in hand, wondering what to tell him to get started. Finally she said, “Undress.” It was the coolest verb she could find without making the command sound sexual.

His eyebrow went up anyway, for the second time in a few minutes. “As you wish.”

_Come on, Emma, focus_.

Killian finished undressing, and Emma had to put on all her professionalism to stop herself from doing anything out of line. He was just a handsome model, she’d seen plenty of them before. Few of them however were allowed to keep their chest hair. As Killian rarely posed half-naked, in favor of deep V-necks or half-open shirts, his chest hair was perfectly intact and just perfect.

She cursed herself for wearing tight jeans, as she felt her knees starting to tremble a little. Luckily, Killian was looking high up, so she approached him and put the measuring tape loosely around his neck. They were both used to it - Killian having other people touch him non-sexually and Emma touching models non-sexually. But she would lie if she said she didn’t feel his heartbeat raise for one single moment when her fingers touched his chest as she folded the tape between his collarbones. She felt goosebumps on her own as his breath caressed the skin of her arms.

She took off the tape and turned around to write the numbers on a paper, and she could swear she saw him raise his hand and scratch behind his ear. As soon as she turned back, he was smiling again, though this time it looked less suggestive.

Next came his chest. Great. Trained as he was, he raised his arms on his own so that she could wrap the tape around his torso. She definitely didn’t need to lean into him so much in order to do that, but as awkward as it was, she didn’t comment on it and went on.

“Hold it for a sec,” she told him after measuring and his hand flew to his chest, brushing her right one as she took it off the tape to write the next measurement. That _definitely_ needn’t have happened, but he wasn’t complaining. She dared a look at him, and was surprised to not see him too amused by that. Well, he seemed fine, but the smirk he’d greeted her with seemed too long ago now.

After she measured his waist, he took care to not touch her hand, so that wasn’t an issue, but then came the time to measure his hips.

This time, she actually let herself wonder what could happen if she touched him _there._

_Oh crap, Emma, come on._

She felt relief to see that all went smoothly as she carefully wrapped the tape around his hip. The fact that she _did_ feel relief actually surprised her.

She measured his legs, which was not weird at all with her hand actually going very close to his crotch, and then finally came the time for the arms. She would lie if she said she was never curious, so she threw a glance at the stump on his left wrist. She knew that she wouldn’t need to - and maybe she _shouldn’t_ \- touch it at all to measure the arm, but she felt the desire to touch it, not out of curiosity, but for the same reason her heartbeat had raised since she started working on him. She was glad she was standing behind him.

“Have you tried ice-cream from the parlor across the street?” he asked suddenly.

She looked up at him, focusing on his very soft looking hair. “Not yet. I’ll only indulge if I’m certain their rocky road is decent enough.”

“Hm, haven’t tried that one yet. Their grapefruit one is worth it.”

“Who even _eats_ grapefruit-flavored ice-cream?”

He tsked. “It’s got lots of vitamins, Swan.”

“It’s full of sugar. Aren’t you supposed to, not eat that kind of stuff or something?”

“Don’t pressure a model on their diet, please,” he said with mock embarrassment.

“I never do and you know that.”

“I do, love.” His smile now seemed terribly nice and she couldn’t tell if he was faking it or not. But their casual discussion - quite possibly the first one they had since they met - distracted her from the nervousness she felt after touching him all over. She had finished measuring him yet she still stood next to him having small talk. While he was naked save for one piece of clothing.

She cleared her throat and turned her back at him, pretending to work on his measurements in order to give him the time to dress again. This would only be the first part, as later she would need to actually check the fabric while he would be wearing it.

It wouldn’t be a very lucky day if she got fired for unprofessionalism.

Luckily for her, Killian’s schedule changed before she’d finished the costume and he had to leave, so Emma went on with her other projects until she finished for the day.

Overworked as always, Emma entered her apartment and collapsed on the couch. She rubbed her eyes with her hands and waited until the relaxing tune of her neighbor’s rough singing was heard.

She suddenly opened her eyes in shock. Killian’s voice was also rough this morning, but that didn’t stop him from babbling all day. She’d never seen her neighbor and didn’t know his name, plus there were more than a few mailboxes without name tags on them in the entrance of her apartment building. But she had been living there for two months, wouldn’t she have seen Killian around if he really was her neighbor? Plus, she couldn’t believe an arrogant guy like Killian Jones would be singing silly happy songs like _Mr. Sandman_ at seven in the morning.

Her neighbor coughed enough times to make Emma worry a little. If his apartment was as simple as hers, the chances of him having a roommate were thin, so he probably was living on his own. Emma turned her head and looked at the unopened Orange & Ginger Tea package that was lying on her kitchen counter. She heard another series of coughs.

To hell with it, what did she have to lose?

She poured hot water in a thermos, took two porcelain mugs and two tea bags, placed them all on a serving tray and walked downstairs to his apartment door. She stood there for almost a solid minute, trying to find an excuse why she was there as she listened to him sing a variation of _House of the Rising Sun_. She sighed and finally rang the bell. What was she even going to do if it really was Killian?

“Coming!” she heard from inside. Emma froze. She was almost sure that was how Killian sounded like that morning but still, what were the chances-

Before she could finish her thought, the door opened to reveal Killian Jones, fully dressed in black silk pyjamas and hair wet. His mouth opened in surprise.

“Swan? What are you doing here?” His eyes scanned her up and down and focused on her fluffy slippers for a few seconds.

“I… live upstairs,” she said, her voice low. “I thought I could introduce myself to the neighbors.” She felt stupid for not also bringing the cookies she hadn’t opened since buying them last week.

“At nine in the evening? With tea?” He didn’t look like he was judging her, just a lot curious. Finally, he shook his head and stepped aside, letting her in his apartment.

“I… heard you cough,” she admitted without looking at him and bit her lip.

“What?”

She looked around at his apartment. It looked the same size as hers, though even cleaner than hers.

“Yeah,” she finally turned, her hands gripping the tray so hard her knuckles were starting to get white. “Your ceiling is very thin and some planks on my floor are loose so some noises slip through”. She bit her lip again when she saw him almost blanch. “Don’t worry,” she rushed to say, “I can’t actually _hear_ what you’re saying. I can hear murmurs and… singing, and only today, your coughing.”

As if on cue, he started coughing again. Some of the color seemed to return on his face.

“So I thought I could bring you some tea,” she said and raised the tray for emphasis.

“Uh…” he said and dropped his head a little, “thank you for your consideration.” He actually blushed. Killian fucking Jones, famous model and beloved by thousands of fans, was actually blushing and smiling shyly. He scratched behind his ear, as she had sort-of seen him do that morning.

“I’m sorry, is it a bad time?” she said.

“No, no, I won’t be going to bed for an hour. Uh, you can… sit down.”

Emma couldn’t believe that he actually sounded nervous. She sat on the couch, opened the thermos and poured hot water into the cups, letting the tea bags soak it in. Killian sat on the armchair next to her and watched her silently. Emma stifled a yawn.

“So, you can hear me sing, uh?” he asked, the bravado in his voice returned.

“Yeah. Some of my favorites are those that sound like sea shanties…” she looked up at him. “They _are_ sea shanties, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they are. But you can’t hear the lyrics, you said?” He was leaning back on his chair and he raised his eyebrow, hand and wrist resting on his lap.

“No. Why?”

“Oh, nothing,” he replied with a shrug. “I gather you’ve learned this one,” and he started humming a melody.

“Yeah, you’ve sung this one many times. What do the lyrics say?”

He smirked. “You don’t wanna know.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Well, sailors weren’t known for being coy.”

“And you think that I haven’t heard lewd songs before?”

He reached over and took one mug. “Then, maybe I’ll sing it to you when I’m trying on the leather costume.”

Emma regretted saying anything. He was going to make it way harder for her.

“Hm, that’s very good,” he said after tasting the tea.

“One of my favourite flavors,” she replied. “Not one many brands have.”

“Thank you again,” he said and cleared his throat. “It was the last thing I expected tonight.”

“The tea or finding out we’re neighbors?”

He blushed again, though little. He huffed a laugh. “Both, I guess. How come we never met before?”

“You always leave for work and come back earlier than I do, and I’ve only been here for two months.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was about time we did,” she said carefully. For a few seconds, he was looking at her, as if trying to read her, and she relaxed when he finally smiled softly and nodded.

She didn’t realize how quickly time passed. She stayed there and they talked casually, she asked him to sing, and he did, until he complained with mock self-pity about his tired and sore throat. The night went by and the last thing she remembered was him talking about a fashion show in Paris.

Next thing she knew, she was waking slowly to the lyrics of _Sweet Child o’ Mine_. She hummed in satisfaction. Her neighbor’s - Killian’s - voice sounded less rough today. Actually, it sounded clearer than she’d ever heard it.

Then she started getting a scent that reminded her of sea, and leather, and… lavender. She never used lavender fabric softener for her sheets. She opened her eyes.

According to the alarm clock on the nightstand beside her, it was 8:15 in the morning. The bedroom was bright and simply furnitured, and completely unfamiliar to her.

_Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place_  
_Where as a child I’d hide_  
 _And pray for the thunder and the rain_  
 _To quietly pass me by_

She sat up on the bed. That was definitely Killian’s voice, and the structure of the bedroom reminded her of her own. She was wearing her clothes from yesterday night and had apparently been taking the whole bed.

_Oh, sweet child o’ mine…_

She rose and followed the voice to the kitchen. Killian had his back half-turned to her, leaning on the counter as he cut a pineapple into slices. On the table was a jug with fresh-looking orange juice, a few slices of rye bread and a jar with honey, along with silverware, two plates and Emma’s serving tray, with the two mugs from yesterday lying on it upside down.

“Good morning, love,” he said, turning to her. If she hadn’t known that he, as well as other Brits, used the word “love” for basically any acquaintance of his, and if she hadn’t been wearing her normal clothes, she would have been happy to imagine that this was a morning they were going to spend as something more than simple co-workers.

“Good morning. What happened last night?”

“You fell asleep on my couch. I tried to wake you up but you were dead to the world. So I… carried you to my bedroom, and don’t worry, I had just put new sheets.”

She was sure she was looking like an idiot but couldn’t stop her eyes from bulging and her eyebrows from rising. He had _carried_ her, as in, bride-style and put her to bed? “And where did you sleep?”

“On the couch. It’s pretty comfortable, I have to admit.”

“Oh,” was all she could say. She sat down at the table. “Thank you.”

“I guess we’re even now,” he said with a soft smile. He looked happy.

She wrung her hands together. “Hardly,” she said. “I just brought you some tea and you let me sleep in your bed because I was too lazy to go upstairs in my own place.”

“You weren’t lazy, you were tired.” He sat on the chair next to her. “Pineapple?”

She obliged and took a slice. It was really tasty. “You work a lot, and it was Friday so it would make sense you would be a little extra tired,” he added.

“A lot? How do you know that?”

“Well, the Nolans are famous for their nice attitude towards their employees, but not for their lenience. If you weren’t hard-working you wouldn’t be where you are.” His voice sounded very calm, and his face looked warm, relaxed and happy. He seemed happy to just spend time with her. He was still in his pyjamas, a few buttons on the top undone, his hair a slight mess and his eyes a little puffy from sleep but he looked the happiest she’d ever seen him.

Quickly, she pulled herself together and raised from her chair. “I should get going. I have to go shopping today,” she lied. She didn’t even know why she had stayed that long and hadn’t run out the door the moment she realized she was still in Killian’s place.

“Oh, don’t you want some juice?” he asked as he raised as well.

“No, it’s- it’s okay, I…” she trailed off as she looked into his eyes, closer than ever before. They were blue, very blue, and they were twitching slightly, as he focused on each of her eyes at a time, and then they flickered towards her lips. They only lingered there for half a second but that was enough to send Emma forward, crushing her lips to his. She more felt than heard his soft _oof_ at the sudden contact but kissed her back quickly. Her one hand grasped at his shirt while the other rose to touch the nape of his neck, fingers softly brushing his dark hair. She could faintly hear his breath getting heavier and faster as he opened his mouth for her, his hand barely brushing her middle, as if uncertain if he was allowed to touch her.

Suddenly, she stopped. Eyes closed, she leaned her forehead into his, lips almost still touching, his warm breath caressing her lips and chin. Her hand left his nape to rest just a little under his collarbone, and she felt his heart beat in a rhythm as erratic as her own. She opened her eyes. His body was leaning towards her as if asking for more, and his eyes were still closed. He definitely didn’t regret it, and if she was to be honest with herself, neither did she.

Slowly, she stepped back. He raised his eyes and looked at her with his lips slightly open, expecting her next move. Who the hell was he really?

“See you Monday,” she said simply and walked out the door without looking back at him. After closing the door, she leaned on it and let her body slide down, sitting on the floor. The kiss was… well, hot. He smelled like spice and sea salt and was actually kissing her back, not taking more than she was giving. He barely even touched her himself. She sighed. She felt like the infatuated school girl she never got to be.

They weren’t exactly friends. They barely even worked together, they’d barely spoken yet she’d felt so comfortable throughout the night, but how would he react if she kept avoiding him the whole weekend? For her, it would certainly be a hard weekend to get through, especially if he started singing again. She stood up and for two seconds contemplated knocking on his door before she turned around and almost ran to her apartment.

It was only after she’d closed her own door that she realized she had forgotten her tray at Killian’s place.


End file.
